


In Which Boyd's Observation Skills Need Some Work

by KuriKuri



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Asexuality, Demisexual Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, Gray-Asexual Vernon Boyd, M/M, Oblivious Boyd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 02:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6034053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuriKuri/pseuds/KuriKuri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“But back to Stiles,” Erica says. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice. He follows you around like a puppy or something. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he has a crush.”</p>
<p>“A crush?” Boyd repeats, eyebrows shooting up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Boyd's Observation Skills Need Some Work

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thistledome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistledome/gifts).



> Originally posted [here](http://twtransacearoexchange.tumblr.com/post/139278902351/gift-for-amyinthebelljar-from-authorkurikuri) on tumblr, for the Trans/Aro/Ace V-Day Exchange.
> 
> Includes gray-a!Boyd, demisexual!Stiles, and gray-a!Derek.

Vernon Boyd has never been particularly good at making friends. Maybe it’s because he’s too quiet, or too intimidating, or too _something_ , but he’s never been able to pinpoint the exact reason. Maybe he just isn’t good at connecting with people.

At least he has that now – a connection. A _pack._ He and Isaac and Erica are connected through the bite, and apparently that’s enough to overcome Boyd’s lack of social skills.

Why _Stiles_ has decided that the two of them are going to be friends, Boyd has no clue.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Boyd insists, swatting Stiles’ hand away as he tries to dab at the small scrape on Boyd’s cheek with a piece of gauze. “It’ll heal in a few hours.”

“Dude, you almost got your face clawed off by a hostile alpha,” Stiles huffs, poking at Boyd’s cheek with the gauze again. “I reserve the right to fret.”

“It’s a scratch,” Boyd protests, but he doesn’t try to push Stiles away again. “It’s barely an inch long. Why do you even care?”

“Did you seriously just ask me that?” Stiles asks, his eyebrows shooting up.

Boyd stares back, gaze unwavering, but doesn’t reply. Stiles lets out another huff and rolls his eyes.

“I care about you,” Stiles elaborates. “We’re friends.” Then, a little quieter, “We _are_ friends, right?”

The question catches Boyd a little off guard. It’s not something anyone’s asked him before. He’s always thought of the word “friend” as a title bestowed on him by other people – not something he could be in a position to _give_.

“Yeah,” Boyd finally replies realizing he’s probably let the silence stretch on for a beat too long. “We’re friends.”

Stiles grins at him, and Boyd wonders what he’s just gotten himself into.

\---

Being friends with Stiles isn’t actually all that different from being… what were they before? Acquaintances? Sort-of-packmates? Although he supposes that it makes sense that it doesn’t change much, if Stiles was already operating under the assumption that they’re friends.

Boyd realizes that maybe he just wasn’t paying that much attention before, but now that he is, it seems like Stiles is everywhere.

“Has Stiles always sat behind me in Econ?” Boyd asks, his head in Erica’s lap as they watch _Community_ on Derek’s flat-screen television, Isaac curled up in an armchair nearby.

“Only since the first day of class,” Erica snorts.

“You seriously didn’t notice?” Isaac asks, levelling a judging look at Boyd.

Boyd shrugs, but it’s probably not very obvious, considering his horizontal position. Isaac’s right – the fact that he managed to be oblivious to Stiles Stilinski, of all people, sitting behind him for the past few months seems pretty farfetched. Stiles isn’t really the sort of person who is easily overlooked.

But, well, Boyd’s been fairly preoccupied in that class, always trying to get a seat next to either Erica or Isaac before someone else takes his place.

“Better not let Derek hear that you couldn’t even spot Stiles,” Erica teases, a smirk on her lips. “He’ll make you do extra sensory training.”

“I’m Derek’s favorite,” Boyd snorts.

“Only because the two of you communicate solely through eyebrow movements,” Isaac retorts, which Boyd can’t really argue with. As much as he likes Erica and Isaac, sometimes it’s nice hanging out with someone you’re not actually expected to talk with.

“But back to Stiles,” Erica says. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice. He follows you around like a puppy or something. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he has a crush.”

“A crush?” Boyd repeats, eyebrows shooting up.

“Boyd, let’s be friends,” Isaac mimics, a poor attempt at Stiles’ voice. “Oh no, did that evil alpha hurt you, Boyd! And Derek, stop being so hard on your betas, by which I mean Boyd.”

“He does not do that,” Boyd protests, but now that he thinks about it, there is an element of truth to Isaac’s teasing.

“You didn’t even notice him sitting behind you in class. Clearly your observational skills can’t be trusted,” Isaac snorts, and Boyd scowls at him.

“Yeah, think about the last time he consistently sat behind someone in class,” Erica adds. “Poor Danny was fending off awkward come-ons left and right.”

“You guys are imagining things,” Boyd huffs. “He’s just desperate for friends.”

“I’m just saying, you don’t see him bothering us like this,” Isaac points out, looking a little amused at Boyd’s expense.

“That’s because he hates you for stealing Scott’s attention, and he’s scared of Erica,” Boyd protests, although truthfully Isaac and Erica’s points are starting to get to him.

“But he’s not scared of you?” Erica asks, arching an eyebrow at Boyd.

“I didn’t rip out part of his Jeep and brain him with it,” Boyd counters, and Erica rolls her eyes.

“Mistakes were made,” Erica replies airily, inspecting her nails. “We get along nowadays. I don’t think he’s really scared of me anymore. Well, more than he’s afraid of anyone as gorgeous and powerful as me.”

“I still think you’re delusional,” Boyd says.

“Well, maybe now that you’ve finally gotten your head partway out of your ass, you’ll start actually noticing how much time he spends trying to get your attention,” Erica retorts.

“Sure,” Boyd replies dryly.

\---

The thing is, Erica’s _right_.

Before school starts, Boyd finds Stiles next to his locker, claiming it was “on his way to homeroom” (which Boyd can tell is a complete and utter lie by the way Stiles’ heartbeat flutters). Stiles then spends all of lunch trying to engage him in a conversation about whether he thinks unicorns actually exist.

And in Econ, afterwards, Stiles actually _passes him a note_. For a moment, Boyd’s terrified it’s one of those “Do you like me? Check yes or no,” things, but thankfully it’s just a stick-figure caricature of Finstock, reciting the speech from Independence Day. Boyd actually let out a soft snort of laughter, earning him a suspicious look from Finstock and a self-satisfied smile from Stiles.

Holy shit, it really does look like Stiles has a thing for him.

Of course, now that Boyd knows that Stiles is interested in him, he has to figure out what to do about it. He finds himself lying on the couch in Derek’s loft, puzzling out the situation. Erica’s doing some sort of bonding thing with the other girls, Isaac’s hanging out with Scott, and Derek’s at work, so Boyd’s left to sort through his thoughts in peace.

So. Stiles has a crush on him. Which begs the questions, how does _he_ feel about Stiles?

Boyd frowns as he thinks about it. It’s a little hard for him to compute, because the idea of anyone having a crush on him is so foreign. He has a hard enough time making _friends_ , and the thought of anyone wanting to be with him romantically is just…

But no, it definitely seems like Stiles has a crush on him.

And sure, Stiles is annoying, but he’s also snarky and loyal and kind of geeky. He has a sharp sort of sarcastic humor that Boyd can appreciate, and Boyd always finds it hard not to smirk when Stiles decides to take potshots at Peter.

So yeah, he might like Stiles a little.

However, while Boyd can admit that Stiles is kind of cute, when he tries to imagine kissing or making out with Stiles, well, it doesn’t really do anything for him. Then again, that sort of stuff doesn’t seem to do much for him in general. He’d be the first to say that Erica is gorgeous, but they tried making out once and it just… didn’t work. He likes getting himself off just fine, but with other people? Not so much.

Which brings him back around to his dilemma. Does he like Stiles or does he not like Stiles?

He’s still weighing the pros and cons when he hears someone unlock the door to the loft. Derek’s scent hits his nose a moment later as Derek trudges back in, setting his bag and keys down on the kitchen counter.

“Hey,” Boyd greets him, craning his head but not getting up from the couch. “How was work?”

“A customer spent half an hour ranting to me about how Shakespeare should be in the classics section of the store, not the theater section,” Derek snorts, tugging his nametag off his shirt. “But I managed to avoid strangling him.”

“Congrats,” Boyd replies dryly.

“Why are you sulking here instead of out with Erica and Isaac?” Derek asks, raising an eyebrow at Boyd, still sprawled out on the couch. Boyd shrugs.

“Erica’s having a girls’ night and Isaac’s with Scott,” Boyd replies. “I needed some time to think, anyway.”

Derek makes an acknowledging noise and asks, “You staying for dinner?”

“Are you cooking?” Boyd replies, quirking an eyebrow at Derek, who scowls, eyes narrowing.

“I was going to order Thai, but if you _want_ me to cook,” Derek snorts, and Boyd quickly says, “Thai sounds good.”

Derek goes to shower while they wait for the food and Boyd fools around on his phone for a while. He finds a new text from Stiles while he’s at it, asking him to help set up a pack movie night at Derek’s loft, Stiles claiming that he’s the only one who would be able to convince Derek to let them invade. Not for the first time, Boyd wonders how he didn’t notice Stiles’ crush sooner.

Boyd gets out the plates and silverware when the food comes, setting it all up on the small kitchen table. He and Derek normally spend meals eating in comfortable silence, but after a few minutes, Boyd finds himself saying, “So there’s this guy who I think has a crush on me.”

Derek shoots him a surprised look, swallows his mouthful of red curry, and asks, “Is this about Stiles?”

“You know about that?” Boyd asks, his brow furrowing.

“It’s kind of hard not to,” Derek snorts. “He’s not exactly subtle.”

“Any advice, then?” Boyd replies, picking at his noodles.

“I can’t believe I’m asking this,” Derek mutters, “but do you like him?”

“I don’t know,” Boyd sighs, because that’s just the problem. “I like his sense of humor and I don’t think I’d mind dating him, but I’m not sure about sex.”

“Because he’s a guy?” Derek asks, tone neutral.

“No, it’s not – ” Boyd answers, frustrated as he tries to verbalize his feelings on the matter. “Erica and I tried once, too, but it just doesn’t do anything for me.”

Derek’s quite for a moment, studying Boyd carefully, and Boyd is just starting to worry that he’s about to start talking about erectile dysfunction when Derek asks, “What do you know about asexuality?”

Boyd blinks at him, caught off guard.

“Uh, that’s how cells reproduce?” he hazards, and Derek lets out a snort.

“It’s also used to describe when someone doesn’t experience sexual attraction,” Derek explains, and Boyd frowns. “Like me. I only very rarely feel sexually attracted to someone.”

“Huh,” Boyd replies, mulling over the definition in his head. “But you’ve dated people before?”

“Sexual and romantic attraction aren’t the same,” Derek says easily.

“So you’re saying I’m romantically attracted to Stiles, but not sexually,” Boyd clarifies, frowning slightly.

“I’m not necessarily saying that. You have to figure it out for yourself,” Derek replies, his tone even. “I’m just saying that there are sexualities out there that aren’t just gay or straight.”

“Okay,” Boyd says, going back to prodding at his noodles.

“Think about it,” Derek replies.

Boyd does.

\---

On Friday, Boyd finds himself standing out in front of Stiles’ locker before school officially starts. He’s nervous, his palms a little sweaty, and he wonders if maybe he shouldn’t do this. However, before he loses his nerve, he hears a familiar voice say, “Boyd?”

He turns to find Stiles there, his backpack slung over his shoulder and a confused look on his face.

“Stiles,” Boyd says, with a small nod.

“Can I, uh, get to my locker?” Stiles asks, making an awkward hand gesture. Boyd feels his face heat a little and he steps to the side quickly.

“Are you doing anything after school?” Boyd asks quickly. Stiles’ head snaps up, his gaze torn away from where he’d been fiddling with the lock on his locker.

“I mean, I have lacrosse practice?” Stiles says, and Boyd thinks he hears something hopeful in Stiles’ tone. “But I’m free afterward.”

“I was just hoping to talk to you about something,” Boyd elaborates. “We could go to that diner on 42nd.”

“Sure,” Stiles says. “Sounds good. I’ll see you then, I guess?”

Boyd nods, and then turns to head to homeroom.

He tries not to spend all day worrying about how the afterschool conversation with Stiles is going to go, but it’s difficult when he shares so many classes with Stiles. Stiles seems caught between anxious and eager, and now that Boyd’s paying attention, it’s not that hard to notice how many times during class Stiles sneaks glances at him, biting his lower lip red in his nervousness.

Somehow both of them manage to make it through the school day without incident. Boyd finds himself sitting next to Lydia Martin on the bleachers while waiting for lacrosse practice to finish. She quirks an eyebrow at him when he sits down next to her, her eyes darting over to where Stiles is running drills on the field, but she doesn’t comment on it.

“I am _starving_ ,” Stiles groans when he reemerges from the locker room after practice, his hair still wet from a quick shower.

“Good thing we’re going to a diner,” Boyd says dryly.

“I can’t wait to stuff my face with curly fries,” Stiles agrees as they make their way over to Stiles’ jeep, at the far end of the school parking lot.

Stiles babbles about school the entire drive to the diner, filling what would otherwise have been an awkward silence, Boyd suspects. They end up seated in a corner booth in the back of the diner vinyl seats creaking whenever Stiles fidgets.

“Soooo,” Stiles finally says. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Boyd pauses for a moment, wondering how to phrase this.

“Do you have a crush on me?” he finally asks. Stiles goes stock still, his eyes wide and his face turning slowly red.

“What? Why would you – ? I mean – pssssh, me? Have a crush?” Stiles stutters, hands flailing so that he almost knocks over his (frankly gigantic) chocolate milkshake. Boyd manages to catch it before it hits the table just in time. “I am totally _crush free_ – ”

“ _Stiles_ ,” Boyd says flatly, interrupting Stiles’ babbling.

Stiles opens his mouth, then closes it again, the reopens it to say, “Alright, so I might have a bit of a crush. But Lydia and Danny had a talk with me about the definition of harassment, so I’ve been trying to be respectful – ”

“I don’t mind,” Boyd interrupts, making Stiles blink at him in confusion. “I mean I’m not… opposed.”

“To me crushing on you,” Stiles clarifies, looking a little caught off guard.

“Yeah,” Boyd says.

“Wait, is this, like, a _date?_ ” Stiles blurts out.

“Not really,” Boyd replies, feeling a little guilty as Stiles droops a little, looking disappointed. “We haven’t even decided if we want to date yet.”

“Dude,” Stiles says. “I have a massive fucking crush on you. I think it’s pretty clear that I want to date you.”

“Look, I like you,” Boyd says, making Stiles blink at him in surprise. “And I want to try dating you. But I’m not interested in sex.”

“Like you’re not into guys, or…?” Stiles asks, brow wrinkling in confusion.

“Like I’m not into _anyone_ ,” Boyd says simply.

“Oh. So you’re asexual,” Stiles replies, catching Boyd off guard. “I can work with that.”

“Maybe,” Boyd clarifies. “I’m not entirely sure yet.”

“But you are romantically attracted to me?” Stiles asks, looking at Boyd with big, brown, hopeful eyes.

“Yeah,” Boyd answers, lips quirking up into a small smile. “I think so. Even though you’re so annoying.”

“Hey!” Stiles sputters. “I thought you were trying to get me to date you! Doesn’t that mean you’re supposed to be nice to me?”

“I’m just letting you know what you’re getting into,” Boyd replies, quirking an eyebrow at Stiles, who laughs.

“Alright, alright,” Stiles says, knocking their feet together under the table. “And, uh, about the ace thing – I’m not going to pressure you, I promise. I think I might be demisexual, maybe? Like, it’s when you only become sexually attracted to someone after forming some sort of emotional bond with them. And I do – I am sexually attracted to you, but I don’t need it. Sex.”

“Thanks,” Boyd replies with a soft smile.

“Dude, you don’t need to thank me for that,” Stiles huffs, fingers drumming unconsciously against the table, and Boyd finds himself reaching over to cover Stiles’ hand with his own. Stiles looks surprised for a moment, but then he twists his hand around, twining their fingers together.

“So, do you have any plans this weekend?” Boyd asks.

“Well, normally it’s video games and pajamas, but if you have a better suggestion…” Stiles replies with a grin.

“You any good at pinball?” Boyd asks, challenging.

“Am I?” Stiles snorts. “I’m great at pinball.”

“Then you can prove it to me at the arcade on Saturday,” Boyd replies with a grin of his own.

“Oh, you’re on,” Stiles says, smirking. “Get ready to have your ass handed to you.”

Boyd can’t help but laugh.

\---

(“Oh my god, you didn’t tell me you had the high score!” Stiles groans, slumping down over the Star Wars pinball machine. “Not fair!”

“You were the one who was going on about how you were going to kick my ass,” Boyd snorts, knocking their shoulders together.

“You’re buying me ice cream to make up for this,” Stiles sniffs. “I need my ego soothed.”

Boyd rolls his eyes, but does.)

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://authorkurikuri.tumblr.com/)


End file.
